Chapter 1
My whole body ached as if it had been run over by a ten-ton truck. The rough burlap rubbed against the back of my neck, itching intensely and stinging a little. Shen Yanci frowned, struggling to lift his lead-heavy eyelids. The first thing that came into view was a dilapidated adobe wall, with large chunks peeling off to reveal the yellowish soil underneath. Several bulging burlap material bags were piled in the corner, their edges tightly bound by hemp rope and covered in dust. The air was mixed with three distinct smells—the dust kicked up, the faint mustiness of damp coarse grain, and the bitter scent of cheap soapberry. It was completely different from the gasoline and takeout aromas he smelled every day in his previous life, so unfamiliar it made his heart race.
He stiffly moved his fingers and grabbed a cold, smooth object beside him—it was the handlebar of a Forever brand bicycle, polished shiny from years of use. The black paint on the frame had peeled off in several places, revealing the dull metal underneath. The tire was slightly worn, and the seat was wrapped in a tattered piece of burlap. This was one of the rarest means of transportation in the 1950s, something he had only seen in old documentaries. “Where am I?” Shen Yanci’s throat was parched, his voice hoarse as if sandpapered, so low it was barely audible. He reached up to touch the back of his neck; the burlap shirt rubbed against his red, itchy skin. Glancing down, he saw he was wearing a stiff, gray-blue burlap jacket with an obvious patch at the elbow, stitched crookedly. His lower body was clad in patched pants that were too short, exposing his thin, dry ankles, red from the cold.
The chaotic noises around him jolted him back to his senses. Not far away, a middle-aged man with a stubbly face and dark skin stood with his hands on his hips, his voice hoarse as if it were about to smoke. He shouted loudly: “Hurry up with the sorting! If the supplies to be delivered this afternoon are late, no one will get their work points today!” The man’s shout was impatient, mixed with the crisp jingle of bicycle bells, the “jia jia” cries of villagers driving donkeys in the distance, the rustle of burlap as people moved supplies, and occasionally the soft flutter of burlap material bags in the wind. Together, they painted a vivid picture of a busy post-war suburban transfer station—lively yet shabby.
A sharp pain shot through Shen Yanci’s head, and fragments of memories that weren’t his flooded in like a tide. The original owner of this body was also named Shen Yanci, an orphan who had lost his parents in the war, with no relatives or dependents. A few days ago, he had managed to find a temporary job as a deliveryman at this suburban transfer station to make a living. The original owner was weak and had never done heavy work. This morning, he had collapsed beside his bicycle from low blood sugar after sorting supplies and cleaning bicycles all morning. When he woke up, he had been replaced by Shen Yanci, a takeout station manager from the 21st century.
“Transmigrated?” Shen Yanci’s Adam’s apple rolled violently. He tightened his grip on the bicycle handlebar, his knuckles turning white, and cold sweat broke out in his palms. In his previous life, he had struggled in the big city for ten years, working his way up from a takeout rider to a station manager. He had endured wind and sun every day, dealt with all kinds of emergencies, and never felt afraid even when harassed by customers or soaked in heavy rain. But now, looking at this unfamiliar and shabby environment, a wave of confusion surged in his heart. He had finally saved some money, only to lose his life in a car accident. Unexpectedly, when he opened his eyes, he had arrived in the 1950s, an era of scarcity and restrictions, as an orphaned temporary worker who could barely make ends meet.
He subconsciously touched his empty pockets—no phone, no wallet, not even a piece of coarse grain cake. All he had was the patched jacket on his back, a tattered bicycle, and the little strength left by the original owner. “Damn, this start is too hellish,” Shen Yanci couldn’t help muttering softly, his tone filled with confusion and helplessness. “No relatives, no background, no supplies. With this frail body, I’m afraid I won’t even earn tomorrow’s work points, let alone gain a firm foothold.”
Just as he was panicking and figuring out how to get through today, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly sounded clearly in his mind, without the slightest noise: 【Ding! Detecting stable host soul, meeting binding conditions. The Era Logistics Tycoon System is being bound...】
Shen Yanci stiffened all over, thinking he was exhausted and hallucinating. He blinked hard and pinched his arm—sharp pain came, proving it wasn’t an illusion. 【Ding! Binding successful! Host: Shen Yanci. Identity: Temporary Deliveryman at Suburban Transfer Station. Current Skill: Basic Delivery (Entry Level).】
Immediately after, a simple blue panel appeared in front of him, visible only to himself—host information was at the top, the core function area in the middle with only two options: 【Beauty Favorability】 and 【Material Exchange】, and a novice task prompt at the bottom, bold and eye-catching.
【Novice Task Triggered】: Deliver the material registration book (located on the first floor of the shelf on the east side of the sorting area) to Lin Xiaoqing, the transfer station registrar. 【Task Reward】: Lin Xiaoqing’s favorability +10, 5 Material Exchange Coupons (can be exchanged for basic supplies such as coarse grain, soap, and burlap), Basic Delivery skill upgraded to Primary Level. 【Task Time Limit】: 10 minutes. 【Failure Penalty】: Deduct 5 work points (current work points: 10; deduction will result in dismissal from the transfer station).
“A system?!” Shen Yanci’s eyes lit up suddenly. The confusion and panic just now were instantly replaced by joy. The corners of his mouth couldn’t help but rise, and he almost laughed out loud. As an old bookworm who had read countless online novels all year round, he was no stranger to golden fingers like systems. He never thought that after transmigrating, he would also bind a system—one specifically adapted to this era, the Logistics Tycoon System. He could even woo beauties to increase favorability and get rewards. This was simply a lifesaver!
The middle-aged man who had shouted earlier noticed him standing there in a daze, grinning foolishly. He frowned immediately, strode over, and patted him hard on the shoulder, almost knocking him over: “Shen boy, what are you daydreaming about? Slacking off, huh? Hurry up and work! If you drag your feet any longer, you won’t get your work points today!”
Shen Yanci quickly put away his smile, straightened up, and apologized to the man with a smile: “Uncle Li, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not slacking off. I just felt a little dizzy just now, but I’m better now. I’ll go to work right away!” He knew that Uncle Li was the sorting team leader. Although he looked strict, he was actually kind-hearted and had always taken care of the original owner, just with a sharp tongue.
Uncle Li looked him up and down. Seeing that his face was still a little pale, he didn’t make things difficult for him. He waved his hand, his tone softening a little: “Alright, alright, I know you’re weak. Don’t push yourself too hard. If you really can’t take it, rest for two minutes, but don’t delay the material delivery. Got it?”
“Got it, got it. Thank you, Uncle Li!” Shen Yanci nodded repeatedly, feeling a warm current in his heart. He became even more determined to gain a firm foothold here. In his previous life, as a takeout station manager, he was best at obeying orders, adapting flexibly, and with the system’s help plus years of delivery experience, he didn’t believe he couldn’t make a name for himself in this era.
He didn’t dare to delay. Following the system’s prompt, he strode towards the shelf on the east side of the sorting area. The shelves were made of rough wood, of varying heights, with sharp wooden thorns exposed at the joints. They were piled high with various material bags and account books, covered in a thin layer of dust—touching them would leave his hands covered. Shen Yanci reached out to feel around the first floor, his fingers brushing over rough burlap and hard account books. He quickly found the material registration book—the paper was rough and yellow, its edges curled and brittle. The words “Material Registration” were written on the cover with ink, neatly but smudged in some places, and dotted with a few specks of dust and small burlap scraps, full of the charm of the era. His fingers brushed over the ink characters on the cover, clearly feeling the rough texture of the paper. He secretly sighed in his heart: supplies in this era were really scarce, even a registration book was so shabby.
Picking up the registration book, he gently patted off the dust on it. The dust fell rustlingly, making him cough softly. As he turned to walk towards the registration desk, he happened to see two sorters leaning against the shelf chatting not far away, holding half a piece of coarse grain cake in their hands, taking turns taking bites, their eyes full of satisfaction. Shen Yanci glanced at his empty stomach, and his throat felt dry again. The days when he could order takeout casually every meal in his previous life now seemed like a luxury. He suppressed the emotion in his heart, quickened his pace towards the registration desk, and dared not delay any longer, fearing he would miss the novice task time limit and lose this hard-won job.
He strode towards the registration desk, which was in the corner of the transfer station. From a distance, he saw a girl with two braids, wearing a light blue burlap jacket, sitting at a tattered wooden table, sweating profusely as she looked at a pile of account books. Her hair was neatly combed, tied at the ends with a burlap string. Her face was round, with a healthy light wheat color, but now her brows were tightly furrowed, her forehead covered in fine sweat, ink stains on her fingertips. She occasionally raised her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her forehead, her hand gripping the writing brush tightly, her fingertips turning white, looking helpless.
Shen Yanci slowed down, guessing in his heart that this must be Lin Xiaoqing, the target of the novice task. He could see the girl’s panic—she must have encountered some trouble. Remembering how he often helped his riders solve problems when he was a station manager in his previous life, he subconsciously softened his tone. Neither deliberately ingratiating nor approaching abruptly, he spoke softly, breaking the girl’s embarrassment: “Comrade, hello. I’m here to deliver the material registration book. You look so busy you’re sweating—did you encounter any trouble? Do you need help?”
Lin Xiaoqing looked up suddenly, obviously not expecting someone to speak. Her eyes were still filled with unsubsided panic, her red eyes shining brightly. She froze in place, and the writing brush in her hand almost slipped from her grasp with a “clatter”, looking flustered and pitiful. Shen Yanci reacted quickly, reaching out to steady the brush—the handle was smooth and warm from years of use, the tip still carrying a faint scent of pine smoke ink, cool to the touch. He handed it back to Lin Xiaoqing steadily, a gentle smile on his lips, waiting quietly for her to calm down.
At that moment, the system’s prompt sounded again in his mind: 【Ding! Detecting host’s first interaction with target Lin Xiaoqing. Lin Xiaoqing’s favorability +5 (current favorability: 5, Stranger Level). Please complete the novice task as soon as possible to unlock more rewards!】 Shen Yanci was delighted—apparently, winning over the sisters’ favorability wasn’t that difficult.
